Rising from the ashes of the beloved (if erratic) print digest (that itself rose from the ashes of The Scream Factory magazine), we'd like to welcome you to the bare•bones e-zine. We look forward to offering the same irreverent reviews and commentary you've come to expect from us.

Editorial Comment: This, we might as well warn you, is what Hollywood calls a downbeat ending. Not that we're especially fond of them ourselves; but every so often such a yarn will point out a truth too often overlooked.
Also, they are tricky to write. Too much accent on pure despair and the reader walks out long before the end. There must be in the people of such a story an undistorted reflection of us all: a common denominator anyone can recognize within himself.

Waxing philosophical is like waxing a floor; it is powerful easy to fall on your face while trying it. But we have an abiding faith in Man's ability to rise to greatness in the shadow of destruction. Evidently Dick Matheson feels much the same way, for his handling of character in "The Last Day" is masterful in its sympathetic portrayal of the best and worst in all of us.

Illustration by Robert Kay

Notes: This issue also features stories by Robert Heinlein ("Project Nightmare") and Theodore Sturgeon ("The Way Home"). "The Last Day" was subsequently reprinted in the November 1968 issue of Amazing Stories, which also contains stories by Harlan Ellison and Samuel R. Delany ("The Power of the Nail") and Ray Bradbury ("The Dwarf").

Editorial Comment:A nice domestic arrangement. Once which—sooner or later—most "enlightened" husbands grow amenable to after that first child arrives. But if number one just happens to be a girl named Tine and if your own name also just happens to be Chris, then we hope that—unlike the hapless protagonist in the following nightmare for parents of all ages—you won't have to learn, the hard way, that sometimes parallel lines can make a difference between a good or a bad night's sleep!

Illustration by Ray Houlihan

Notes: "Little Girl Lost" was famously adapted by Matheson for the third season of The Twilight Zone. This issue also features stories by Robert Sheckley ("Beside Still Waters") and Theodore Sturgeon ("A Way of Thinking"). "Little Girl Lost" was subsequently reprinted in the April 1967 issue of Amazing Stories, which also contains stories by Philip K. Dick ("Small Town") and Frank Herbert ("The Heaven Makers, Part 1").

"The Wedding"Beyond Fantasy Fiction
July 1953, Vol. 1 No. 1

Subsequent appearances: Collected Stories HC, Born of Man and Woman, Third From the Sun, Collected Stories TP v2

Editorial Comment: It's easy to lock the stable once the horse is stolen—or close a door behind a demon.

Illustration by John Fay

Notes: A unique aspect of Beyond Fantasy Fiction was the inclusion of each author's facsimile signature at the close of their story. In his interview with Stanley Wiater in Collected Stories TP v2, Matheson notes that he adapted "The Wedding" for Stephen Spielberg's Amazing Stories. The episode was unproduced.

Editorial Comment: Certainly a phone is a comfort for a little old lady... as long as there are people on the other end!

Illustration by Sussman

Notes: This issue also contains Matheon's facsimile signature. "Sorry, Right Number" (later collected as "Long Distance Call") was adapted by Matheson under the title "Night Call" for the fifth season of The Twilight Zone. The episode was directed by Jacques Tourneur.

Story Comment: Growing up promises to be as disillusioning a process in times to come as it is today—unless his author is wrong. We hope he is.

Editorial Comment: In a recently published study of Man and the distant future, Sir Charles Galton Darwin, grandson of the old Species Originator, insists that it will take the human being at leas a million years to develop an improved model. In the meanwhile, suggests Sir Charles, all that matters for mankind is an efficient urge for survival. Which is all very well if you aren't too fussy about what sort of folk survive.

Notes: While unrelated to the focus of this series, the cover of this issue is worth briefly discussing. 15 years before audiences would experience what's considered by many to be the most exciting reveal in motion picture history, there's the good ol' Statue of Liberty sticking halfway out of the sand, with nary an Ape in sight. As the ending to Planet of the Apes has always been associated with Rod Serling (as detailed by Gordon C. Webb on rodserling.com), one has to wonder if somewhere along the way he (and/or the film's production designers) may have come across this issue of Fantastic Universe.

Story Comment: What manner of sonnet would be a fitting epilogue at Earth's curfew?

Editorial Comment: Plumber turned author, courtesy of Smith-Corona, Dick Matheson sold his first story or eight cents. No, not to us. We're sorry we didn't discover him. His first sale was to his mother, and here is his latest sale.

Story Comment: It's a mistake to buy a problem child a scientific wonder toy—unless you're a parent with a wicked bent for infanticide!

Editorial Comment: Richard Matheson is a writer of unusual brilliance, persuasiveness and charm. Last summer Gold Medal books published his I Am Legend, the first science-fiction title to be listed by that company. It won high acclaim from the experts in both the science fiction and fantasy fields, prize-winning mystery novelist William Campbell Gault calling it "The most terrifying book you'll ever read." Into this little story Mr. Richard Matheson has instilled a terror quite as breathless, acidulously barbed with wit.

Notes: This issue also contains stories by John Wyndham ("Compassion Circuit") John Christopher ("Talent for the Future") and Poul Anderson ("The Stranger Was Himself").

There's more to come! Stay tuned for future installments of Richard Matheson - The Original Stories.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Continuing an issue by issue examination of the greatest crime digest of all time.

Vol. 1 No. 5 May 1953

The Guilty Ones by John Ross MacDonald

(8000 words) **

Lew Archer is hired by Reginald Harlan to find his sister, who has run away with an artist. Seems there’s quite a bit of money in the family, and Reginald wants to keep it that way. Not much in the way of excitement here, and the tell-all climax is rushed.

John Ross MacDonald (1915-1983; no relation to fellow mystery writer John D. MacDonald ) (1) found huge success with Lew Archer, headlining the PI in The Moving Target (1949), The Drowning Pool (1950), The Way Some People Die (1951), The Ivory Grin (1952), Find a Victim (1954), The Barbarous Coast (1956) The Doomsters (1958), The Galton Case (1959), The Ferguson Affair (1960), The Wycherley Woman (1961), The Zebra-Striped Hearse (1962), The Chill (1964), The Far Side of the Dollar (1965), Black Money (1966), The Instant Enemy (1968), The Goodbye Look (1969), The Underground Man (1971), Sleeping Beauty (1973), and The Blue Hammer (1976). The entire short story career of Archer was collected in Lew Archer, Private Investigator (The Mysterious Press, 1977). Paul Newman portrayed Archer (renamed Harper) in two successful films, Harper (based on The Moving Target, 1966) and The Drowning Pool (1975). Archer was also the star of his own short-lived TV show, this time fleshed out by Brian Keith.

Services Rendered by Jonathon Craig

(3500 words) ****

Bad cop Henry Callan is using Carol Hobart as his private whore. She’s desperate to have her husband released from prison and cleared of murder charges and Callan has promised her his cooperation in exchange for hers. Henry Callan is not just a bad cop, he’s evil, a character trait that Craig seemed to adore and excelled at in his writing.

Stakeout by Robert Patrick Wilmot

(4000 words) *

Denham is hired to be a bodyguard by Audrey Ganns and her blind husband Wade. Unbeknownst to the couple (or is it?), Denham is in cahoots with a couple of bad guys who plan to steal the blind man of the jewels stashed in his safe. Lifeless story is devoid of thrills, good characters, and a middle act. It’s also stocked with a dopey, cliched climax right out of a bad EC Comics story. Robert Patrick Wilmot’s minor claim to fame is the series of novels published in the early fifties (BLOOD IN YOUR EYE, MURDER ON MONDAY, and DEATH RIDES A PAINTED HORSE), all starring Steve Considine, “ace private eye and crack trouble-shooter” for Confidential Investigation Services, Inc .

Graveyard Shift by Steve Frazee

(4500 words) **

A gang of thieves attempts to knock off a gambling joint while one of their female members holds a gun on a police dispatcher. She attempts to manipulate the flow of police traffic to divert the patrol cars away from the gang’s target. A little too detailed, the action gets lost in the technical dispatcher jargon.

Steve Frazee (1909-1992) wrote a handful of crime stories in addition to “Graveyard Shift” (“My Brother Down There,” which Frazee later expanded into the novel Running Target, won First Prize in the Ellery Queen Story Contest in April 1953), but was known primarily for his superior action and western tales found in such diverse publications as The Saturday Evening Post, Adventure, and .44 Western. Many of his western novels were actually crime dramas with western curtains and trim (He Rode Alone, simply one of the best westerns I've ever read, was actually a revenge yarn with desert settings and new spins on the old western character cliches). About Frazee, writer Bill Pronzini said “During the 1950’s, no one wrote better popular western novels and stories.” As a Frazee completist, I can’t disagree.

Now Die In It by Evan Hunter

(9500 words) ***

Matt Cordell is hired to find the killer of a pregnant teenager. He’s drawn to a world of juke joints and pool halls. McBain peppers the story with more 87th Precinct-type passages such as “The streets were crowded with people seduced by Spring. They breathed deeply of her fragrance, flirted back at her, treated her like the mistress she was, the wanton who would grow old with Summer’s heart and die with Autumn’s first chilly blast.” The plotline of “Now Die In It” was later used for the third 87th Precinct novel, The Mugger.

Cigarette Girl by James M. Cain

(3500 words) **

The working girl in the title is in a lot of trouble, but tough guy Cameron comes to the rescue.

James M. Cain (1892-1977) wrote two blockbuster crime novels, Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Rings Twice, the latter of which, author Max Allan Collins says, “ set the standard for tough, lean writing.” Both were made into classic noir films in the 1940s. Black Lizard (certainly the preeminent noir publisher in the 1980s), published three of Cain’s lesser-known novels, The Root of His Evil, Sinful Woman, and Jealous Woman (the latter two were originally published together in one volume in 1948 by Avon) in 1989. Several of Cain’s short stories were collected in The Baby in the Icebox (1981).

Nice Bunch of Guys by Michael Fessier

(2000 words) **

Slow-witted Marty just likes to sell his newspapers and keep to himself, but that’s not good enough for the neighborhood toughs, who have other ideas for Marty.

Old Willie by William P. McGivern

(2000 words) ***

Who is the old man known only as Old Willie? He’s protective of a Danish girl named Inger Anderson and a local mobster named Cardina better watch his step around her. Good surprise at the climax when we find out the true identity of Old Willie.

William P. McGivern (1918-1982) wrote several crime novels but is best known for his big three: The Big Heat (1953),Rogue Cop (1954), and Odds Against Tomorrow (1957), all of which became classic film noir. All three of those are very good but other, lesser-known McGivern novels should not be forgotten: The Darkest Hour (1955) aka Waterfront Cop, about New York City waterfront crime in the 1950s; a fast-paced kidnap thriller, The #7 File (1956); and McGivern's take on political corruption, Night Extra (1957).

Build Another Coffin by Harold Q. Masur

(4500 words) *

Lawyer Scott Jordan is hired by a beautiful young woman who stands to inherit a boatload of dough from an institutionalized aunt who suddenly stops answering the girl’s letters. Jordan throws the usual quota of punches and spends the average three to four pages on an expository (half of which is action he couldn’t possibly have insight on) that draws yawns from not only the reader but perhaps the supporting characters as well. This story definitely needed an editor’s pencil, as witnessed by this awkward paragraph:

Denney went up in the air and flew backward, crashing against the wall. I scrambled to my feet and reached him in a single jump. His eyes were glazed and I picked one up from the basement and threw it at him with all the strength I had.

This would have to be the first instance I’ve come across where an assailant is dispatched with one of his own eyeballs.

Don’t Go Near... by Craig Rice

(8000 words) *

Craig Rice’s John J. Malone is hired to find out who’s killing the lions at a small carnival. Some readers may take “Don’t Go Near” as a parody of tough guy stories. Parodies only work if they’re funny or interesting. This story is neither.

Assault by Grant Colby

(1000 words) *

A woman’s fears about her husband become real. Nothing more than a fragment, it’s hard to judge stories like “Assault” that have no real beginning or end, but the fragment here is neither startling or interesting.

This issue's "Mugged and Printed" features bios of James M. Cain, Craig Rice, Steve Frazee, and William P. McGivern.

Also this issue: the first in a series of essays on criminals, "Portrait of a Killer: Warren Lincoln" by Dan Sontup. Lincoln was a criminal lawyer who murdered his wife and brother-in-law. Sontup was an excellent fiction writer as well and he would see two stories published in Manhunt in the years to come. The "Portrait" feature lasted 24 installments through the July 1955 issue.

Another column to debut this issue is "Crime Cavalcade," a potpourri of a half dozen or so true crime stores, no more than a paragraph or two, written by Vincent H. Gaddis. Like Sontup, Gaddis was also a fictionist, though none of his work appeared in Manhunt.

Footnote

(1) John Ross MacDonald was born Kenneth Millar, but when his wife Margaret Millar became a successful mystery writer, he morphed the name of his father, John MacDonald Millar into JRM. When John D. MacDonald found out about the new MacDonald in town, he hit the roof. Ross’ agent was contacted and, after some years, Ross agreed to drop the John from his published name. This whole incident is detailed in The Red Hot Typewriter by Hugh Merrill. Actually, after reading the passage, I thought John D. came off as a spoiled child, at one point commenting that he could use legal means to keep Millar from using the John MacDonald name.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Continuing our massive interview with pulp historian Stefan Dziemianowicz (Part 1 is available over at A Thriller a Day).

PE: Why the fascination with Weird Tales? I mean, sure they’re pretty to look at but you don’t actually read these old moldy things, do you?

SD: There's this joke they tell in pulp-collecting circles (which I'm sure can be adapted to comics collecting, book collecting, "fill-in-the-blank" collecting) about the novice pulp collector who's going table to table at a pulp convention, buying titles for "investment" purposes, when he comes to one table where a bunch of veterans are shooting the breeze, discussing their favorite pulp stories. "You actually READ the magazines?" gasps the horrified novice. "Don't you know how much that devalues them?!?!?" Actually, other people tell this joke better than I do, but it's not as much a joke as you might think. There are people who collect pulps and, for whatever reason, don't read them. Me, I came to pulp magazines as a reader, and although I've not read every magazine in my collection, I've read a lot of them.

As to "why Weird Tales"--hey, that's the title of the editorial that ran in the famous May-June-July 1924 issue, and just being able to spout that kind of trivia makes me sound like more of a nerd than I really am, doesn't it?--that's simple. I started reading fantasy horror and science fiction in my adolescence, which is to say the late '60s and early '70s. That was a half-decade or more before the advent of Stephen King and a good decade before there was anything remotely resembling a modern horror genre with bookstore presence. What you could find, in scanty form, were the classics: Poe, Blackwood, Machen, Le Fanu, Bierce, and other writers from the Victorian and Edwardian era. The most "modern" writers of horror fiction you were likely to find at your local neighborhood bookstore (dare I date myself and mention that this was back at a time when the concept of chain bookstores such as B. Dalton, Waldenbooks, Barnes & Noble, and Borders had yet to gain traction?) were H.P. Lovecraft, Robert E. Howard, Clark Ashton Smith, Ray Bradbury, and Richard Matheson. If, like me, you chowed down on every title of theirs as soon as you could get your hands on it, you couldn't help but look at the publication credits on the copyright page (sort of like gnawing the bones of the book to suck every last juicy morsel from it) and--guess what!--you discovered that ALL of them published stories in Weird Tales.

You've got to remember that Weird Tales stopped publication in 1954, which means by 1969 it was only 15 years dead. To put that into perspective, that's the same interval that separates Stephen King's "Carrie" from "The Dark Half." Put in perspective another way, only 20 years separate the death of Weird Tales and the publication of Carrie where as 36 years--nearly twice as long--separate Carrie from the books King published in 2010. What I'm getting at is that, in the late 1960s and '70s, the classic Weird Tales was not yet the embalmed memory we think of it as today. It was still possible to stumble on copies in used bookstores, or run across cheap reading copies in specialty science fiction and fantasy book catalogs, like the ones you saw listed in the ads at the back of the Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. Those catalogs sometimes put you in touch with offerings from the then current specialty press, much of which was full of memoirs, and even current fiction, by the likes of Joseph Payne Brennan, Hugh Cave, H. Warner Munn, Carl Jacobi, and other Weird Tales alums. The early '70s were the period when fan fascination with Lovecraft was starting to take off in a way that even the readership of Weird Tales in its heyday couldn't have imagined, and given that Lovecraft's name was virtually synonymous with the magazine, if you read anything about Lovecraft, odds were you picked up a lot about Weird Tales. Those same years, Sam Moskowitz launched the reissue of Weird Tales. The magazine was underfinanced, which meant that Sam had to fill it with a lot of fiction out of copyright that Weird Tales itself might never have published, and it was almost impossible to find at the newsstands. But, hey, it was Weird Tales--!!!!!--and the very fact that it was resurrected from the dead only fed the mystique that drove fans like me to seek it out. (I should also point out that about the same time, Sam Moskowitz opened his collection to a guy named Tony Goodstone who was compiling a magnificent retrospective book on pulp magazines entitled, simply, The Pulps. The book included a generous sampling of fiction from most of the major pulp genres, including a few Weird Tales stories. Most important--it included a bunch of glossy insert pages reproducing cover art from the magazines. As you put it in your question, the magazines are "pretty to look at," and it's the cover art that hooks you. This was the pre-internet days--hell, this was the pre-computer days--when you couldn't find repro like this with a mouse click on Google search. Goodstone's book was the equivalent of pulp porn.)

Jeez, look at how wet I'm getting over this. I'm starting to sound like a teenager in the backseat of a car, only with a magazine rather than Betty Lou the cheerleader--ain't I? (They've got a word for that, don't they? Can we say it in this blog?)

They say you never forget your first love, and I haven't. I bought my first copy of Weird Tales in 1971. It was the November 1950 issue, with a cool Frank Kelly Freas cover. I paid $3.00 for it. It featured a Fritz Leiber story I coveted because I'd become acquainted with its existence the year previous. (More on that later.) The rest, as they say, is history. I was a collector just waiting to be bit by the pulp bug. One buy led to another, and another, and with each issue of the magazine you bought, I became more and more aware of its legacy and history. Weird Tales published 297 issues in its first incarnation. Do the math, and you can figure that it probably published upwards of 4,000 stories. And not just throwaways. Virtually every writer of short horror and fantasy fiction who amounted to anything between 1923 and 1954 published in its pages. Some of the stories that appeared in Weird Tales literally altered the course of the modern fantastic tale and became the foundation that decades of horror writers afterward built on their work. There was no other repository like this for weird fiction, and there likely never will be again. Getting access to it 16 years after it closed shop made me feel a little like how graverobbers must have felt when they broke into King Tut's tomb.

PE: Off topic a bit but you once edited a string of reprint volumes with Greenberg and Weinberg called 100… Run us through the process of a monster undertaking like that. Did you sit in your living room surrounded by pulps, close your eyes and point?

SD: Not off-topic at all. Remember how all of those mad scientists in shudder pulp stories had armies of drool-slavering cretins whom they pressed into service to carry out their evil designs? Well, I had my own gang of mutant editorial associates. Basically, I would wave a pulp story under their noses, and when they got the scent, I would order "Go fetch permission for World English Language rights!" Those boys never let me down--

Say, I get the idea you're not falling for this bunk...

Okay, the truth is I did get to cull a lot of pulps for stories for the 100 short-short story books, but there was a natural process of triage. The anthology theme limited us to certain magazines. 100 Crooked Little Crime Stories pretty much made it possible for us to print any crime/mystery/suspense story that satisfied editorial demands. 100 Crooked Little Crime Stories and 100 Dastardly Little Detective Stories mandated that the crime story chosen feature a detective or crime-solver of some sort. 100 Wild Little Weird Tales limited us to a single magazine: Weird Tales. Word count for these books dictated that stories run no longer than 2,500 to 3,000 words so that was yet another winnowing tool. Then, the deal clincher: the story had either to be in the public domain (a surprising number of pulp stories are, notably those published under house names in fly-by-night magazines); by an author with whom--or with whose agents and reps--we have a good working relationship (for example, Hugh Cave, a true gentleman who always seemed so delighted to be remembered for a book that we never had any problem working out terms with him); or published by an author whose work had been copyrighted by Popular Publications. Popular Publications was, at one time, the biggest publisher of pulp fiction magazines, and we were lucky that Bob Weinberg served as business manager for the concern to whom copyright for all Popular Publications magazines had been assigned.

You might think that this would create extremely stringent conditions under which to assemble an anthology, but the fact is it gave us access to an astonishing number of magazines and their contents. The pulps were intended to provide quick, forgettable escapist entertainment, and you would be surprised at how many stories in a particular issue of a particular magazine--say, Detective Fiction Weekly or 15 Mystery Stories--clocked in at just the right word count. Most of the stories that filled "the back of the book in pulp magazines" were tailor-made filler pieces, written to order in some cases to be fit around the advertisements and longer stories that ended part way down the jump page. It was a delight to discover that, even though written to format, a number of the stories were quite good, or at least as good as any that appeared in the front of the book. Mind you, this turned reading that I would normally do for fun into "work," but I still got a kick out of sitting down with obscure magazines that only fellow pulp collectors were familiar with and pulling stories from them for a second life.

The book that damned near killed the three of us wasn't an anthology top-heavy with pulp stories, but Horrors: 365 Scary Stories. It featured all new stories, especially written for the book, none longer than 750 words. This was back in the pre-electronic submission days, and I was getting and reading upwards of 30-40 manuscripts per day. Granted, at 750 words per story, that's not a lot of wordage to have to read, but a story is a story, and I was doing this all on top of my daytime job. Every day I would come home from the office and find a neatly stacked and rubber-banded pile of manila envelopes plopped on the floor in front my apartment building mailbox. I knew what my leisure hours were going to be spent doing that evening. Years later, I realized that I was doing the latter-day equivalent of pulp editing for that book. Pulp magazine editors read a lot of stories on a daily basis, a lot by people who never managed more than a sale or two in their lifetime, and a lot more by people who wrote so badly that they never made a sale. The experience raised my admiration for a guy like Doc Lowndes who, at one point in his career, was reading stories for science fiction, fantasy, western, sports, and probably love pulps on a daily basis for notoriously lower-tier publications.

PE: You’ve made quite a career mining those pulps for great stories. Do you have any idea what percentage of the total stories published you’ve read?

SD: The short answer to that question is, not as many as I would like to have read. When I first started collecting pulps as a teenager, you could count in nanoseconds the amount of time it took me to get the wrapper off the magazine I'd bought from a used book dealer and plunge into the pulp. But that was back in my high school days. Suffice to say, my literary horizons have broadened since then--young pulp collectors, please take note: there ARE other types of fiction to read out there--and since I do a lot of reviewing of contemporary genre fiction that, and the obligations of "the day job," have cut severely into my free time.

Despite the fact that there were not that many horror/weird fiction pulps, there's only one that I've read the complete run of, cover to cover. That was Unknown/Unknown Worlds (39 issues) and I did that, in part, because I wrote a book (my first, in fact) on that magazine. I blush to admit I've read maybe only half of the stories in Weird Tales, and not all of the good ones. I got a lot of Weird Tales stories under my belt when I and Bob Weinberg and Marty Greenberg compiled 100 Wild Little Weird Tales. That book was made up of one hundred stories in the 2,500 to 3,000 word range from Weird Tales, and that required me to read all the short filler stories at the back of the magazine and pick the cream of the crop.

I would say that, for most of the the other weird fiction pulps--Strange Tales (7 issues), Strange Stories (13 issues), Ghost Stories (60+ issues, and this one counts only partly since they fobbed off most of the contents as "true" ghost stories) I've read about half to 3/4 of the contents. Then you get hybrid magazines like Fantastic Adventures (some horror, but mostly fantasy of a juvenile stripe), Famous Fantastic Mysteries and Fantastic Novels (largely reprints of old lost world fantasies and early scientific romances from the pre-1930s)--I've read about the same percentage of those. I've got about 1/3 to 1/2 of the runs of the shudder pulps Horror Stories and Terror Tales, and about the same percentage of the shudder pulp incarnations of Thrilling Mystery and Dime Mystery. I'm less well read in those, only because they're formulaic and reading too many in succession will put you to sleep. Sort of the same experience I had when I tried reading Doc Savage novels as a teen. Speaking of Doc Savage, there's a lot of horror and science fiction in hero pulps like Doc, The Spider, G-8, Operator 5, et al. But those magazines, like the shudder pulps, are dearly priced on the collector's market today and I know I'll never own all of the ones with weird fiction.

My goal before I die is to have read all of the stories in the genuine weird fiction pulps.

PE: What is SD’s WT collection like? Have you got a WT room? Perhaps Cthulhu shot glasses for SD?

SD: What's my Weird Tales collection like? Okay: I've got a complete run, sort of. Of the original 279 issues, I'm missing all but four issues: the first 3, and the first Lovecraft issue (October 1923). I've got photocopies of those issues. I could break down and buy the Girasol reprints, and probably will at some point, but I'm a nostalgic kind of guy, and my photocopies were made off of August Derleth's set before it was dispersed. I've got copies of all the issues from subsequent incarnations of the magazine.

I'd like to think that, before I die, I'll acquire a complete run of the 'zine, but it's not likely. As I mentioned, when I started collecting, even pulps like Weird Tales didn't cost that much to acquire. They were pretty much the obsession of a small but devoted core of fans. Talk to the guys who attended the first Pulpcon 30-some-odd years ago and they'll tell you how they were buying and selling Spicy pulp, hero pulps, and shudder pulps for a couple of bucks apiece. Yep—the same magazines that you see fetching several hundred dollars a pop on Ebay these days. After back burnering pulp collecting while I was in college, I started collecting in earnest again in the 1980s, when I moved to the NYC area and started working in publishing. The first core part of my Weird Tales collection came when I responded to a listing in the Boston Book Annex (do they still exist?) catalog for a set of 35-40 issues of Weird Tales from the 1930s and 40s. If memory serves, they wanted $500 bucks for them. I don't know whose collection they got them from, but they definitely got them from a collector. These babies were in cherry condition: no cover creases, glossy covers, white paper interiors, tight spines, even pages that were uncut in some issues. They were so incredible I thought at first I'd been duped into buying replicas. And these were issues with stories by Lovecraft, Howard (including some Conans), Clark Ashton Smith, Ray Bradbury, Robert Bloch—literally the best and brightest writers for the magazine. Included was a pristine copy of the now infamous issue with Margaret Brundage's "bat girl" cover. They try to hawk that on Ebay for $500 to $1,000 bucks a shot. I got it, like all the other issues in that lot, for about $13 to $14 on average.

Sounds like the steal of the century, right? Well, not entirely. Again, we're talking the 1980s, before Ebay came around and started exposing the pulp market to comic book collectors who famously had more money than fans of other collectibles. I attended my first Pulpcon in 1990, when it came around to New Jersey, and quickly discovered I was one of the only guys on the floor with any interest in Weird Tales or weird fiction magazines. The overwhelming majority of collectors were interested in hero pulps and pulps in other interest area. There was one dealer who had a lot of 1920s issues of Weird Tales and he was discounting them for me the more I bought. So I got most of my issues from 1926 to 1930 for about $25 to $30 apiece. Gee I'm starting to sound like a real gloating collector, aren't I? (Don't even ask about science fiction magazines. The common wisdom is that science fiction fans were slavishly devoted collectors who kept everything they could get their hands on, with the result that there are no scarce science fiction magazines. Dealers were almost giving these away for lack of interest in the 1980s and '90s.)

The last key chunk of my collection dropped into my lap the week before I got married in 1996. A dealer friend had just bought a complete run of the magazine and sold me most of the 1923 and 1924 issues I needed. Great prices to be toting up the same week you're trying to figure out how much you're going to be in hock for the next decade. In the last decade, I've bought maybe three issues of Weird Tales to plug gaps in my run. Regardless, I'm glad to have acquired my collection before Ebay came into existence. With the prices fetched these days and the competition, I couldn't afford to buy for my collection.

In addition to the Weird Tales run, I've got the infamous "associational items": Canadian issues of Weird Tales with cover art different from the American editions, original art from the magazine, etc. Sorry, no Cthulhu shot glasses.

PE: Are there times when you sit in your easy chair, smoking jacket on and pipe alit and crack open a WT, or are you on to other pulps now?

SD: I do have a smoking jacket and easy chair in my pulp room, but I should specify that the jacket was made from the flayed skin of the Mad Arab Abdul Alhazred and the chair is this neat contraption with straps on the legs and armrests and this little skullcap doohickey for keeping your head warm. It's also wired for illumination like those itty-bitty book lights you used to see them sell at Barnes & Noble. I don't smoke a pipe, but I've discovered that pages from my pulp duplicates make great rolling papers.

Seriously, you would be greatly depressed were you to see my pulp room. It's my attic, which is finished but pretty cluttery with books and magazines. I have 4 floor-to-ceiling bookcases about three and a half feet across with nothing but my weird fiction and science fiction pulps in them. And I've probably got about 40 boxes of pulps boxed up to accompany them. I'm in a household with two working writers, and that means that every square inch of space except for a narrow corridor down the center of the each room is piled with tottering stacks of books and papers. If this place ever caught fire you'd be able to see the flames from Jupiter. For the longest time, I used to know instinctively where every magazine and book was located, the same way I could remember the plot of just about every book and story I read. But I'm pushing 53. It's not that my memory isn't so sharp any more as that a life of constant reading has made it impossible for me to retain everything.

Remind me, again: This is the Larry King show we're on, right?

As I alluded earlier, I do read pretty widely, so yes I don't always spend my pulp time with my nose buried in an issue of Weird Tales. I've got complete runs of all science fiction magazines published in the U.S. (and a bit of the UK) up to the 1960s, and in some cases beyond. There was a lot more science fiction published than weird fiction in the pulp years. And there was a lot more detective fiction published than science fiction. I'm pretty thick with mystery and detective magazines from the 1930s-1950s. I have very few complete runs of anything in this area until you get to the digests of the 1950s and '60s. Those were the last gasp of the pulps before the paperbacks totally took over. I do have complete runs of some oddball adventure type pulps. In fact this year, after almost 20 years of acquiring, I finally completed my run of Jungle Stories (I was shy only one issue for about the last 7 years) I keep kidding myself I'll get around to doing annotated guides to all of these magazines some time in my infinite spare time.

PE: You did a fabulous job on the Robert Bloch books. Is there another project waiting in the wings for your special talents?

SD: Thanks for the nod on the Robert Bloch books. I got to know Robert Bloch very remotely through correspondence and one wonderful meeting with him at the first Necronomi-Con and it was an honor and a privilege to work on collections of his writing. It was similarly an honor to work with a guy as talented as David Schow on those books. David and I have one more collection of Bloch's material coming out, all of his stories related to Jack the Ripper, from Subterranean Press. I've been a bad bottleneck on this owing to an insane work schedule, and Sub Press has been more than patient about it, to my genuine relief. Just recently, me and Bob Morrish—you may have heard of him; he co-edited a primo magazine in the 1990s named The Scream Factory with two guys named Enfantino and Scoleri—handed in a book collecting the best short weird fiction of Henry Kuttner to Centipede Press. I'm not doing as much freelance editing and anthologizing as I used to, in part because I'm doing it at my job as a senior editor at Barnes & Noble in their book publishing arm. I've been able to get a lot of neat stuff into print. I'm supposedly writing a book on Stephen King, but am way overdue on my contract for it. And I've been promising for 20 years now to write a complete annotated guide to Weird Tales, which would be a story by story, issue by issue guide to the original 279 issues. I think part of the reason why I've not sat down to do it is because I'm convinced that once I've read the last story in the magazine, I'll die. I have to time the writing of the book just right so that I finish the last annotation just before I get to the last sentence of the last story. If there's a twist in the final line, I'm screwed.

(In one of my rare serious moments, I'll just add that Stefan is one of the most giving persons I know. He's always ready to help at the drop of a hat. His Annotated Guide to Unknown & Unknown Worlds is the best example of a "guide" I've ever read and is 100% responsible for my Guide to Manhunt -PE)

The Bibliography (unless otherwise noted, all books are co-edited with Robert Weinberg and Martin Greenberg—I've tried to be complete, but I'm sure a title of two slipped though the cracks)

Sunday, October 24, 2010

I have a lengthy history with Caroline Munro. And I'm not just talking about being a six year old fan seeing her in The Golden Voyage of Sinbadfor the first time.

As long as I can remember, I've collected memorabilia about her, including her movies, magazine appearances, and an extensive photo archive. In the early days of the internet, in the absence of any other web presence, I created "The Ultimate Caroline Munro Image Library," for which I scanned all the photos in my collection and posted them to share with Caroline's other fans (Many of those original scans are still circulating on the web today. What can I say—I was naive).

Like the Electric Banana, don't bother looking for it, it's not there anymore.

One day, I was contacted by Caroline's wonderful stepdaughter, Tami, who asked if I'd be interested in making my site the 'Official' Caroline Munro website. Of course I jumped at the chance. I finally got to meet Caroline on a trip to London in 1999, and a few years later I proposed producing a DVD interview with her (having done something similar with my good friend, artist Ralph McQuarrie, two years previously).

Caroline Munro: First Lady of Fantasy was released in 2004, coinciding with a special tribute to Caroline at the historic Egyptian Theater in Hollywood. It was quite a thrill watching a trailer for our DVD in such a hallowed venue. In addition to a feature length interview, it includes clips from almost all of her films, examples of her rare television commercials (Noxema and Dr. Pepper), music videos she starred in, an extensive photo gallery, and more. You can check out our opening and some clips a fan uploaded to YouTube below:

Along the way, management of the official website moved into more capable hands, and the original Image Library was lost in the transition from Geocities to Yahoo. But my admiration for Caroline lives on.

Which brings me to this, the first installment of what I hope will be another semi-regular feature on bare•bones, in which I feature rarities from my Caroline Munro collection. For this first installment, I thought I'd go back to a very early Munro collectible - her appearance in Adam magazine at age 19 (under the misspelling "Carolyn Munroe").

Adam
November 1968, Vol. 12 No. 11

From the contents page: "Carolyn Munroe" (sic) sounds like the sex symbol she is

Carolyn Munroe (sic) may be a sound-alike of the late Marilyn Monroe, but when it comes to looks, she's like original, man! A comment in Sheilah Graham's column put us on her trail. We called Paramount studios, since she was working on the film Where's Jack? with Tommy Steele and Stanley Baker. She was a mystery—nobody knew anything. The film was being filmed in Ireland and all publicity was handled there.

Our photographer in England finally arranged an interview, though, and now the cat is out of the bag. She's beautiful, all right, but she's not at all like Marilyn. Her long legs, dark hair, fiery eyes and sensuous mouth are strictly Carolyn Munroe (sic)—star material.

Carolyn (sic) lives in London with her family. Being an outdoor girl, she commutes to Brighton, a south coastal town, on weekends, where she swims and takes brisk walks along the cliff tops with her pet Yorkshire terrier, Fido.

For the last several years, Barry Hoffman's Gauntlet Press has been the de facto home of Richard Matheson. In addition to reprinting his many classic works in signed, limited editions, Gauntlet has published many never before seen works. For a period of time, Gauntlet offered limited edition chapbooks containing short fiction, teleplays, and non-fiction for the Matheson completist as an incentive for customers ordering titles directly. As you'll see, most of these have since been collected in Off Beat and Matheson Uncollected Volume 1.

Notes: Originally appeared exclusively in the 52-copy lettered edition of Subterranean Press' Off Beat. Reprinted in this Gauntlet Press Sampler also including original and reprint fiction from R.C. Matheson, Rain Graves, Barry Hoffman, and Clive Barker. Limitation not specified.

Notes: Non-fiction by Matheson (included here solely to maintain a complete list of the Matheson Gauntlet Chapbooks) published in an unspecified edition for customers who ordered A Primer of Reality from Gauntlet.

Notes: Originally published as "All and Only Silence" in Off Beat: Uncollected Stories, and subsequently published as a 552-copy, unsigned, unnumbered edition for customers who ordered Darker Places from Gauntlet.

Notes: Also includes an interview with Matheson conducted by William P. Simmons. which is about six times longer than the short story itself! Originally published as a 552-copy, unsigned, unnumbered edition for customers who ordered Duel & The Distributor from Gauntlet.

Notes: Originally published as a 552-copy, unsigned, unnumbered edition for customers who ordered Unrealized Dreams from Gauntlet.

"The Funeral: Teleplay"
Cover by Harry O. Morris.
Gauntlet, 2006.

Subsequent appearances: N/A

Notes: Originally published as a 552-copy, unsigned, unnumbered edition for customers who ordered Bloodlines from Gauntlet. Features and introduction by Mark Dawidziak. Included here solely to maintain a complete list of the Matheson Gauntlet Chapbooks.

There's more to come! Stay tuned for future installments of Richard Matheson - The Original Stories.

About the editors/authors

Peter Enfantino is an obsessive collector of Mystery, Crime and Horror digests including Alfred Hitchcock, Manhunt, Mike Shayne, as well as the entire stable of Warren Magazines. He has written for all the major channels on the topics, including Paperback Parade, Mystery Scene, The Digest Enthusiast, Paperback Fanatic, Men of Violence, Mystery File, Comic Effect, and Peter Normanton's From the Tomb. He Lives in Gilbert, AZ.

John Scoleri is the author of several books on artist Ralph McQuarrie, the producer of a feature length interview DVD with actress Caroline Munro, and is the self-appointed curator of the I Am Legend Archive. Much of his free time is spent scheduling programming in his home theater, The Slaughtered Lamb Cinema.

For more than ten years, John and Peter were co-editors of The Scream Factory: The Magazine of Horrors Past, Present and Future and bare•bones. They took the world by storm with their blogs, A Thriller A Day,We Are Controlling Transmission, To the Batpoles! and It Couldn't Happen Here. They're now expending their energies on the bare•bones e-zine.

Jack Seabrook is the author of two books on popular fiction: Martians and Misplaced Clues: The Life and Work of Fredric Brown (1993) and Stealing Through Time: On the Writings of Jack Finney (2003). He has had articles published in crime fiction magazines such as The Armchair Detective and he is a lifelong reader of comic books! Among other things he intends to educate the world to the joys of Alfred Hitchcock Presents and (with Peter) DC War and Horror comics.

Jose Cruz has written for a variety of sites and publications including Rue Morgue, Turn to Ash, Video Librarian, Classic-Horror.com, The Terror Trap, and Paracinema Magazine. His other ramblings can be found at The Haunted Omnibus. He lives in Southwest Florida with his wife and a very furry child.